Saturday night the band was playing a club. The gig was going fine, the band was firing on all eight cylinders. We were doing Voodoo Child and in the middle of that we go in to a free jam for 10 minutes or so. The jam was heating up real good, the drummer and I was connecting and Skinny letting loose on that guitar. I was standing facing the drummer, sort of right over his ride cymbal. I went in to this stop and start thing where Skinny would do a lead run and then the drummer and I start up again, this went on four times and then the band came out of that just running with the music. I could hear the audience yelling and hollering and whistling but then they sounded like they were getting farther away as I was sinking deeper in to the music. Suddenly I felt like I was being pulled backwards right off my feet, like I was floating. I was spun around and my right shoulder hit my mic and the stand fell forward onto my amp and I could then feel the stage under my feet. My wife ran over to pick up the mic and stand and I looked at her and shook my head no. She looked me in the eyes and started to smile. We played the song for a few more minutes then slammed it shut. I then could hear the audience, light at first and then full audio. They were on their feet yelling, hollering and whistling. It was the coolest feeling I have ever felt. Mind you, I was completely sober, I don't drink or do drugs. I told Skinny what happened before we got off the stage. He smiled and said "I know, I go there". He called it astro projection. The last set went off great. I know I wasn't floating, my feet were on the stage the whole time but I got so caught in that jam that every other feeling or sense just vanished and it was just the three of us connecting on a whole different plane of playing. I don't know how to describe it really but I want to go there again and again and again.

That's great! I've felt that way a couple of times when jamming with people, but it probably isn't quite the same. There's no audience to send that chill up your spine when you're just jamming with friends.

I know exactly how you felt. It's one of the main reasons I play and perform. Those moments are precious.It's a transcendence that non musicians will never experience. Some athletes talk about being in the zone; perhapsit's the same thing but when it is a shared experience with your band mates; somehow it seems magnified and even morespecial.

Check out the book, "Musicians In Tune," by Boyd. The pros try to explain it.

Been there many times, it's scary to some musicians and once they visit, they never go back. But to some it's addicting, or spiritual, or like I like to think.......it's music.When the music flows through you, you can watch in amazement at your hands doing things you never taught them, you can step back out of yourself and observe - and it's so cool when you do it together. Sometimes you shake, forget your name, puke, cry, .........kinda sounds like posession. haha

Yup, I've had similar experiences before. About a year ago, me and some mates were having a jam in my friends caravan, there was 4 of us jamming, and another 4 or 5 sitting in and listening. After about half an hour, mojo's on fire, the music built up to one hell of a climax, then bang, every one stopped at exactly the same time (me and my friends now call this a "musical silence"). After a bar or two of absolute silence we carried on with the song, but this time, all the people who had been listening started rhythmically hitting the walls, and using random objects as drums. this led to an even bigger climax, and then a second musical silence, during which, I totally spaced out, the whole room disappeared. When the silence ended and we started up again, I played the fattest solo I ever have, I didn't even know what I was playing, heck, I didn't even know I was there. I wasn't the only one there who got hit by the music with a sack of bricks, just about everyone was, in fact, it inspired a couple of the non-musicians to start drumming (african drums, not kits).

There's probably a very real anthropological reson for all this happening, but I'm not going to pursue it. Does sound rather like shamanistic trances though. Perhaps that's why priests have always hated musicians, we have the keys to locked doors they're stuck on the wrong side of.

A doctor friend of mine, who really dug the blues and folk stuff, asked me what it was like playing music and what went thrrough my mind during a good performance. He had seen x rays or cat scans or something and he said it was wild to observe a musician's brain when playing "good" music, as he described it, as opposed to "regular" music. I told him about all these things that you guys are saying here. He took a long pause and said, "You are so lucky."